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39079 JUN 27 1898 




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"Its kind is not the greatest, but it is the greatest of its kind." 
Published July 1, 1898. - - Copyrightert. 



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Remember the Maine ^^.P0ems. 




The Nation's Dead. 

Ach wie glucklich sind die Toden. — Schiller. 

-With faces to the summer sky upturned, 
The Country's brave rest in an endless sleep; 
The Nation's dead are by the living mourned, 
While o'er their graves the tender-hearted weep. 
No more by them the rolling drum is heard, 
No more for them the bugle's clarion blast, 
Their souls no more by martial music stirred. 
The scenes of battle are forever past. 

Many are the loved ones slumbering here, 
Who gallantly have met their country's foes. 
Whose loyal hearts have never quaked with fear — 
Slumbering now in undisturbed repose. 
The silent grave enfolds them in her breast 
The springing grass becomes their funeral pall; 
They gently slumber in an endless rest. . 
No more they answer to the Nation's call. 

On many graves is carved the word " unknown," 
Yet where they lie is consecrated ground; 
Perchance a mother's wandering wayward son, 
Within these walls a resting place has found. 
Though none can tell of them, or whence they came, 
Nor who they are, nor what they once had been. 
Though each headstone is found without a name. 
Yet by the living are their graves kept green. 



THE BATTLE OF MANILA. 

Each year we on their graves the flowers strew, 
And weep with those who over loved ones weep; 
Each year the living with their tears bedew, 
Death's chambers where these gallant heroes sleep. 
For acts of bravery done we homage pay. 
To strangers and to those we fondly love; 
Commemorating Decoration Day, 
Till we shall meet them in the realms above. 

The cycling years forever roll away. 
The Nation's dead awaken never-more; 
No more they stand in battle's firm array, 
No more they hear the cannon's deafening roar. 
Children may prattle o'er each grassy mound 
Yet on they slumber, lying side by side; 
Night spreads her sable mantle all around. 
They know the dawn that has no even-tide. 



The Battle of Manila. 

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. — Hor. 

Night cast her sable mantle o'er the scene, 

The rippling waters murmured in the bay; 

The drowsy watchman saw^ no moonlight sheen 

Reflected on the waters far away. 

His thoughts had turned from bloody strife and war. 

Back to his peaceful home in sunny Spain, 

And as he looked with steadfast gaze afar. 

In fancy he had wandered home again. 

His thoughts reverted to the ones he loved, 
A wife and children, or a sweetheart true; 
In darkest midnight hour his soul was moved, 
And kindly tears fell like the evening dew. 
This lonely sentinel in reverie was lost. 
Nor could he well these pleasant dreams forego, 
So on he dreamed, unmindful of the cost, 
Unmindful of the coming foreign foe. 



THE BATTLE OF MANILA. 

When the shades of night had disappeared, 
And morning o'er the waters brightly spread; 
A mighty fleet into the bay had veered, 
By the ship Olympia, onward led. 
Consternation then marked every brow. 
And all were filled with wonder, or with fear, 
As eagerly they questioned when? how? 
Their enemy so quickly could appear. 

Brave men no longer now must dream of love, 
Their duty now to kill and not to save; 
No longer nbw the emblematic dove 
Of peace shall hover o'er the sailor brave. 
Relentless passion in each heart is rife, 
Every kindly thought has passed away, 
And men will struggle in a deadly strife. 
Their fellow men lo overcome and slay. 

The fortress guns ring out a loud appeal, 
The Spanish ships line up in bold array; 
Columbia's ansv,/er comes from mouths of steel. 
The battle opens with the opening day. 
The great combatants now are face to face. 
Each striving the advantage to obtain. 
Each working for the most strategic place, 
Unmindful of the hundreds who are slain. 

The battle rages and the fitful moans 
Of heroes, wounded, fill the balmy air; 
The cannon's roar, the sailor's dying groans. 
Break rudely on that Sabbath morning fair. 
The smoky clouds uplift, and such a sight 
Presents its horrors to the startled view; 
Well might the sun refrain to shed her light — 
The Spanish hosts the bloody decks bestrew. 

And yet the deadly missives forth are hurled, 
The scene is lighted by destructive fire, 
Christina's flag in lurid light is furled — 
This noble ship becomes a funeral pyre. 



THE VETERAN'S DREAM. 

The Don Juan, riddled by a deadly shot, 

Sent by a gunner whose eyesight is true, 

Goes to the bottom, there to be forgot. 

While rousing cheers break from the boys in blue. 

The forts are silenced, and the Spanish fleet, 
With hundreds of that gallant Spanish crew 
That boldly went, Columbia's ships to meet. 
Have disappeared as does the morning dew. 
Where now the proud and vaunting Spanish host? 
Where now their naval strength and armies brave? 
The fickle goddess frowns and all is lost — 
No boasted chivalry the day can save. 

Spain's mighty fileet is sunk beneath the wave, 

Her proud flotilla wrecked upon the sea; 

A host of Spaniards finds a watery grave, 

And Dewey wins a glorious victory. 

The god of battles is our strength and guide. 

We fight to set a stricken nation free, 

And no ill fortune shall our cause betide — 

Only through blood is purchased liberty. 



The Veteran^s Dream. 

Lovers remember everything' — Ovid. 

As the old man sat in his easy chair, 

And smoked his pipe of clay. 
The face of a loved one, young and fair, 
Appeared to him in the moving air, 
As he blew the wreaths away. 

'Twas the face of a maiden, pure and bright. 

Set in a heavenly smile; 
With eyes that shown as the morning light, 
With hair as dark as the darkest night, 

But her gaze was sad the while. 



THE VETERAN'S DREAM. 

As this image caught the old man's eye, 

He looked with a startled gaze; 
Then backward sank with a broken sigh, 
He knew that an angel hovered nigh, 
And it filled him with amaze. 

Then the old man's thoughts went back apace, 

To the days of long ago; 
And he conjured up the time and place, 
When he gazed with rapture on that face. 

For the old man loved her so. 

Oh, swiftly have fled the passing years. 

But the memory lingers there, 
Through buoyant hopes and saddening fears, 
The image of a loved one, lost, appears — 

The face of a maiden, fair. 

That heavenly moment comes again. 

As a vision from above; 
The joy of that time shall ever remain. 
When wooing, he wooed her not in vain, 

When he won that maiden's love. 

The angel of death went out to reap. 

His sickle was sharp and bright; 

Her lover was left alone to weep. 

The maiden sank in an endless sleep. 

And woke m the realms of light. 

All through life, like a beautiful dream, 

In the midst of pain and strife, 
A brilliant ray of hope would seem 
To come to him as a hopeful beam, 
To cheer that old man's life. 

The old man sits in the great arm chair, 

The smoke rings flitting away; 
His wrinkled brow is marked with care, 
But the image of his sweetheart fair. 
Remains forever and aye. 



DEWEY. 

The old man sits in his easy chair, 

A lifeless piece of clay; 
The smoke from his pipe flecks not the air, 
Nor dreams he now of sweetheart, fair, 

His spirit has flown away. 

His spirit has gone to a mystic shore. 

Away from this world of care; 
His sorrows and trials all are o'er, 
He'll part from that image never more — 
From that sainted maiden fair. 



Dewey. 

'Twas a very Dewey mornin'. 

In the Dewey month ov May, 
When Yankee Admiral Dewey, 

Sailed up thet Dewey bay. 
When the sun riz in its splendor. 

On thet Dewey horizon, 
Dewey's decks were cleared for action, 

Tew Dewey Spanish Don. 

When the Spanish saw thet Dewey, 

With Dewey's boys in blue, 
Was on Ca-vi-ta advancin'. 

Tew Dewey thing or tew. 
They prepared ther ships fur fightin'. 

But they didn't Dewey thing. 
Fur Dewey's guns on battlements. 

Made Dewey bullets ring. 

So Dewey hurled the Spanish Dons, 

Inter the Dewey wave, 
An' hundreds ov ther fightin' men. 

Now fill a Dewey grave. 
They got a taste ov Dewey hog, 

Ov Dewey stomach ache, 
Which taught them Admiral Dewey, 

Was not a Dewey fake. 



THE VETERANS. 

Now floatin' o'er the battlements, 

The Dewey flag is seen, 
Unfurlin' frum a Spanish staff; 

Where Spanish flag hed bin. 
So the Dewey flag is flyin' 

With Dewey in the Bay, 
On account ov Dewey's battle, 

In the Dewey month ov May. 

So with Dewey in the harbor, 

An' Insurgents in the field. 
In a futur Dewey mornin', 

Tew Dewey Spain will yield. 
'Tis tew Dewey fur the Spaniards, 

Frum Maniler they must git; 
It was Dewey on that mornin', 

An' Its very Dewey yit. 

Then hurrah fur Admiral Dewey! 

We'll hev a Dewey time. 
We will tell ov Dewey's battle, 

In very Dewey rhyme. 
We will sing ov Admiral Dewey, 

In the Dewey mornin' light, 
An' name our children Dewey, 

Tew remember Dewey's fight. 



The Veterans. 

Quondam his vicimus armis. 

They marched in front of the rank, 
Their steps were unsteady and slow. 
Uneven and ragged their flank. 
But their eyes had a fiery glow; 
For memory turned to the past, 
When father and brother and son, 
Quickly marched to the trumpet's blast 
In the days of sixty-one. 



THE VETERANS. 

The Veterans are growing old, 
Father Time has affixed his scar; 
And a tear down their cheeks has rolled 
As they picture the scenes of war. 
They marched in the van of the Guard 
With tread that was feeble but true, 
But nothing their steps could retard 
In the days of sixty-two. 

Secession and treason were rife, 
But the Veterans boldly stood. 
And offered their strength and their life, 
For all that was noble and good. 
They wished to establish the right, 
That all should be equal and free. 
And bravely they entered the fight, 
In the days of sixty-three. 

There were hearts, were sad, they saj'^. 
As the young and loyal and brave 
Bid farewell to their homes that day, 
Determined their country to save. 
The Veterans marched in the van, 
And remembered the days of yore, 
W^hen they went to the front to a man 
In the days of sixty-four. 

When at last the victory was gained, 
And the right overcame the wrong; 
When freedom for all was obtained, 
The country broke forth into song. 
'Twas then that the Veterans prayed. 
The Union would ever survive. 
And the days be forever delayed, 
That they saw in sixty-five. 

War to our shores has come again, 
And the boys are called to the field, 
To avenge the gallant ones slain. 
The weak from oppression to shield. 



THE WHITTLING MAN. 

Our boys shall fight to make men free, 
As they steadfastly meet their fate; 
As th' father was, so th' son shall be, 
In the days of ninety-eight. 



The Whittling Man. 

Rathen ist leichter den helfen. — Ger. Pr. 

He sat himself on a dry goods box, 

And, allowing his tongue full sway, 
He gave his neighbors wonderful talks — 

He defeated Spain in a day. 
He declared the president did far wrong, 

When he caused a moments delay; 
He cursed Mark Hanna, Elkins and Long. 

As he whittled and whittled away. 

He ripped and swore at the money power, 

They labored all freedom to blight; 
Thus he continued from hour to hour. 

Conversing with all of his might. 
He glared around on the listening crowd, 

And asserted he wanted to fight — 
" I'm off to the front," he yelled, aloud. 

As he whitted from morn till night. 

He regretted it very much, and yet. 

It was plain as the light of day, 
The Nation, he said, was farther in debt, 

Than it was well able to pay. 
The administration was to blame, 

For trying to stop the affray; 
The policy of congress, too, was lame — 

So he whittled and whittled away. 

And thus this man by his smart replies. 
Caused the good people to say, 

"He was very learned, and wondrous wise, 
So he spouted from day to day. 



10 DEWEY AN' THE GERMAN. 

They felt assured to the war he'd go, 

To join the advance relay, 
But to take this action he was slow, 

As he whittled and whittled away. 

His neighbors went to defend the flag, 

For freedom and honor to fight, 
But this wiseacre continued to lag, 

Explaining the wrong and the right. 
They never discovered him in the van, 

Tho' this would have given delight; 
For he was kept busy, this fighting man. 

As he whittled from morn till night. 

On that dry goods box he waged fierce war. 

For he carved it day by day. 
Till on every part he left a scar. 

As he sang the same roundelay. 
He dearly loved the brave and the true, 

For thus he was heard to say: 
He worshipped the boys who wore the blue. 

As he whittled and whittled away. 

And thus he sat on that dry goods box. 

Till the boys came home to stay, 
Then with the look of a cunning fox. 

He was heard this prayer to pray: 
"Lord, hear and bless US fighting men. 

Who battled in bold array" — 
So great was the prayer he staggered — then 

He quietly fainted away. 



Dewey an* the German. 

" Noli irritare leones." 

Yew hev hearn ov Dewey, ain't yew? 

Who made a winnin' fight, 
Agin the Spanish Squadron, 

In the airly mornin' light. 



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DEWEY AN' THE GERMAN. 11 

Yew hev hearn ov Dewey, aint yew? 

Who stole inter the bay, 
And slaughtered of the Spaniards, 

In a most inspirin' way. 

Yew hev hearn ov Dewey, ain't yew? 

Who whipped the gosh-darn-lot, 
An' sent 'em tew the bottom, 

To petrify or rot. 

Yew hev hearn of Dewey, ain't yew? 

Who sank the Spanish fleet, 
An' is ready, if the time comes, 

Another one tew meet. 

Wall, this same feller, Dewey, 

Seed a German t'other day, 
Who wished to tote sum bread-stuffs 

Inter Maniler Bay. 

Dewey sed he musn't go. 

The German sed he would; 
Then Dewey he up and sed 

He didn't think he could. 

The German sed he'd use a gun, 

Ter git the bread-stuffs in; 
Tew can play at that 'are game. 

Said Dewey, with a grin. 

The German sed, "Off dose bread stoffs 

Do harbor ich should pring, 
Und dot veller goes for mich. 

He vouldn't Dewey ding." 

Then "Dutchy" took his bread-stuffs off, 

To land he didn't try; 
Fur Dewey sed "he'd better not," 

An' wunk his other eye. 



12 G. S. H. 

G. S» H. 

A lady in a nest had found, 

An egg with strange device; 

It puzzled her, so starting round. 
She told it in a trice. 

She asked her neighbors to explain 
The letters which appeared; 

She sought the truth, but all in vain,— 
Some witchery she feared. 

The letters G. S. H. were seen, 
To glow like lightning sparks; 

No modern seer could intervene, 
To read the shining marks. 

The skeptical at once declared, 

Some boy a prank had played; 

To buy the hen some were prepared. 
That such an egg had layed. 

The mystery of the egg remained. 
To trouble thinking men; 

The superstitious were constrained, 
To kill the lady's hen. 

And yet the shining letters blazed, 

With iridescent light; 
The credulous were all amazed, 

At such a wondrous sight. 

At length grandmother, weak and old, 
About the egg inquired. 

And when the story had been told. 
She spoke as if inspired. 

The meaning of the sign, she said. 
She understood it well; 

Then with prophetic mind she read, 
"Q.ive the S.paniards H.ell." 



REMEMBER THE MAINE. 13 

This curious incident will show, 

The aged are often wise; 
And younger people should be slow, 

Their wisdom to despise. 

The first fact stated in this verse, 

" Old minds are clear, not dense;" 

The second told m language terse' 
" Even hens have sense." 



Remember the Maine, 

Freedom is the eternal youth of nations. — Gen. Foy. 
To the sounding of the bugle, 

The rolling of the drum, 
From Maine to California, 

Our gallant boys have come; 
They are bravely speeding forward. 

On each succeeding train, 
To avenge the starving Cubans, 

And the wrecking of the Maine. 

With banners proudly flying, 

They are on the tented field, 
Humanity is emblazoned, 

On every burnished shield; 
They fight not for possession 

Of Cuban hill or plain. 
But to avenge our sailor lads, 

Who perished on the Maine. 

Proud Aragon and Castile shall 

Forever rue the day. 
When from other avocations. 

Our boys were called away, 
To fight for little children, 

By Spanish tryants slain. 
And wield the sword to punish those 

Who wrecked our ship, the Maine. 



14 REMEMBER THE MAINE. 

As in the days of Washington, 

Men struggled to be free, 
And drove the proud oppressor 

To his home across the sea; 
So the Cubans ask for freedom, 

Nor shall they ask in vain. 
For we shall fight and vanquish 

The destroyers of the Maine. 

The God of battles shall adjudge 

The cause for which we fight, 
To be the cause of liberty. 

Humanity and right; 
So he will aid our gallant boys. 

The victory to obtain, 
And drive from "Fair Antilles," 

The destroyers of the Maine. 

Our battleships and cruisers 

Shall scour the raging seas. 
Till every ship with tyrant's flag, 

From western waters flees 
Till our Army and our Navy 

Tear down the flag of Spain — 
Raise Cuba's flag of freedom. 

In memory of the Maine. 

We intend to drive the tryant 

From the Western Hemisphere, 
God grant that shouts of victory. 

May echo far and near; 
When the war at last is over. 

And the boys comes home again, 
Our sailors then shall be avenged. 

Who perished on the Maine. 



HOBSON'S CHOICE. 

Hobson's Choice. 

It hes been related somewhar, 

Thet the feller who hes pluck, 
Will, sure, succeed in gettin' thar. 

Threw courage more nor luck. 
Unknown fellers hev bin fated, 

Tew crush out crime an' wrong, 
An' the world hes bin elated. 

An' told it, tew, in song. 



The ridin' ov the light brigade, 

Caused British hearts tew swell, 
The grandest charge was ever made, 

Inter the mouth ov hell. 
How with brave Nolan in the lead, 

They struggled agin odds, 
An' they performed a mighty deed. 

Most worthy ov the gods. 



Yew hev hearn about John Maynard, 

Who bravely held the wheel. 
Until thet blazin' boat — ill-starred — 

Grated her burnin' keel 
Upon the land, an' every soul. 

Who stood upon the deck. 
Was overjoyed tew reach a goal. 

Safe from thet burnin' wreck. 



But when it comes tew gallant acts, 

An' cooly meetin' death. 
Here air some solid Yankee facts. 

Which take away your breath. 
They show thet Yankees hev the pluck, 

Tew dew a darin' deed. 
An' whether it be fate or luck. 

The Yankee boys succeed. 



16 HOBSON'S CHOICE. 

Our Admirals Schley an' Sampson, 

Hed followed Cervera, 
An' all the Spanish ships hed run, 

Tew Santiago Bay. 
Now through a cute invention, 

An' it were not a sin, 
'Tis the Admiral's intention, 

Tew hem the Spanish in. 

So Sampson sed alas! alack! 

I need some men to-day. 
Tew take the old ship Merrimac, 

An' sink her in the bay. 
Then up an' spoke a Yankee boy, 

"Give me but seven more men, 
An' though our lives it may destroy. 

We'll fasten up the pen." 

The seven extra men air found, 

All ov them young in years, 
Who feared not tew be shot or drowned. 

Each ov them volunteers. 
They take the old ship Merrimac, 

And sink her in the bay. 
An' now the Spanish devils lack, 

A chance tew git away. 

I hev simply told this story, 

In very modest way, 
How our boys were crowned with glory, 

At Santiago Bay. 
So runnin' threw the years ov time, 

All with united voice. 
Will sing ov this brave deed in rhyme, 

An' tell ov Hobson's choice. 




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CENTF^AL CITY, 



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S Battler's is the place to j 
S To buy your goods for 

S His price on them is alvs 
5 Nor does he sell you ti 



LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 

ifflVP 

016 235 726 8_ 



5 In Coffee, Teas he always leads, p 

^ And shoes of every kind, ^ 

3 He can and will supply your needs, ^ 

^ New stock you'll always find. ^ 

55 Dry Goods and Clothing kept on hand, p 
H£ With Canned Goods, Fruits and Cheese, t 

3 The very finest in the land, ^ 

^ They cannot fail to please. ^ 

^ Give him your trade he'll treat you right, ^ 

g This little book he'll give, g 

S Which fills the people with delight, S 

5 And makes the sick ones live. ^ 

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